


Slow Dancing, Swaying to the Music

by BreTheWriter



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreTheWriter/pseuds/BreTheWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John are having a cosy night in when Sherlock decides to do something special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Dancing, Swaying to the Music

It's one of those nights, the good kind. 

There's no active case--they just finished working one, a pretty major one--but Sherlock isn't bored, because it's hard to be bored with John there. Even when they aren't doing anything, it's hard to be bored, because Sherlock never gets tired of watching and observing and noticing new things about him, or even the old things. It's raining--big surprise, it's October in London, of course it's raining--and the weather's turned chilly, so they have a fire going, bathing the room in a kind of warm, buttery light. John is wearing one of his jumpers, the one that Sherlock particularly likes because it somehow brings out the colour of John's eyes, and he's rereading his favourite book, _Watership Down_. Sherlock isn't reading anything, he's just watching John, and both of them are enjoying the music. 

Sometimes on nights like this, one or both of them will play music, Sherlock on his violin and John on his piano, and usually Mrs. Hudson will come up and listen, too. But tonight, Mrs. Hudson is out of her flat visiting a friend, and it's just the two of them, and John has somehow convinced Sherlock to let him put on a tape instead. It's one John's had for years, songs he admits he recorded off the radio when he was a kid, and although Sherlock grumbles and protests and makes a big show out of conceding, he really doesn't mind. He's actually quite curious about the kind of music John liked. So now they're listening to the tape and silently enjoying one another's company. 

John hums under his breath, and occasionally he sings along with the tape. Sherlock likes that best. John has a wonderful, rich tenor, and he obviously knows this tape well. Sherlock finally calls him on it, and John looks up sheepishly. "Honestly, I'm surprised it still works. I used to listen to it while I was studying for exams--all the way up through medical school." He gets a thoughtful look on his face. "Haven't listened to it since I graduated." 

Sherlock smiles. "So what are the next three songs?" he challenges. 

"'Hey Jude' by The Beatles, 'Ferry Cross the Mersey' by Gerry and the Pacemakers, and 'Slow Dancing, Swaying to the Music' by Johnny Rivers," John replies without hesitation. "Actually, that last one is the first song on the other side." 

Sherlock chuckles. They listen to the remaining two songs on the tape. Sherlock is surprised by how much he likes "Ferry Cross the Mersey," although he admits to himself that his favourite part of it is John singing along, his voice a bit deeper in pitch than the lead singer's. But the words are touching. 

The tape gives a _click_ when it reaches the end of the spool, and John slides a leather bookmark in between the pages of his book before setting it carefully on the side table and getting up to turn the tape over. Sherlock watches him move, and before he knows it, he's on his feet, too. John flips the tape over, puts it back in the player, presses the appropriate button, and turns around. He looks a little startled to see Sherlock standing there. 

"May I have this dance?" Sherlock says with a sweeping, formal bow. 

John's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, his jaw dropping slightly. Not for the first time, Sherlock thinks of how adorable John is when he's surprised and flustered. John swallows, pulling himself together, and smiles. "Certainly." 

Sherlock takes John's hand in his, rests the other hand on his hip, and John puts his hand on Sherlock's shoulder. They smile at one another as the music starts up. 

Sherlock realises fairly quickly that, despite the title of the song, it isn't really a _slow_ dance. At least, it's not one that Sherlock knows the steps to--not a waltz, a foxtrot, a tango, or any of the other traditional ballroom dances Sherlock was forced to learn as a child. But it doesn't matter. They simply sway back and forth, rotating in a small circle. 

John lets go of Sherlock's hand and slides both arms around his neck. Sherlock wraps his arms around John's waist, holding him tightly. They draw closer together as the music swirls around them. John is singing along softly, and Sherlock really listens to the music, his smile growing as he realises how appropriate the words are. 

He leans his head forward and rests his forehead against John's. John closes his eyes, pressing a little closer to Sherlock as they sway in time to the music. 

_Don't ever let me go..._

"Never," Sherlock whispers. 

John opens his eyes and looks up at Sherlock. Those beautiful blue eyes convey everything Sherlock feels in his heart--love, peace, trust, joy. They have one another, and right now, that's all that exists: the two of them, the music, the fire's gentle flickering glow, and this dance. 

"I don't deserve you." The words rip themselves unwillingly out of Sherlock's mouth, because he's always been afraid that if he says them, John will leave. But they have to be said. 

John touches Sherlock's jaw lightly. "You deserve better," he says softly. 

"No," Sherlock protests immediately. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I'm not...not worthy of you." 

"Sherlock." John pulls Sherlock tighter against him. "You saved me. You're my miracle. If anyone isn't worthy, it's me." 

"Don't say that." Sherlock will never believe-- _can't_ believe--that John isn't worthy of anything. Even when they were just friends, he had known John's measure and known that John deserves great things. Certainly he deserves better than the things Sherlock has done to him. 

John's eyes lock on Sherlock's. "I love you," he says, firmly and emphatically but with love and affection. 

Sherlock feels a lump in his throat. "I love you, too." 

John pulls Sherlock's face down towards his and kisses him deeply. Sherlock kisses him back, the music forgotten, the dance forgotten, everything forgotten but John and his warmth and his kisses and how much Sherlock loves him, so much it hurts sometimes. 

"My John," he whispers. "My brave, loyal John." 

"Sherlock." His name on John's lips is the sweetest sound he's ever heard. 

Sherlock kisses him again, even as the song changes to a completely different one, and it doesn't matter, because they're together, they love each other, and they will never leave each other. 

_No one else in the whole wide world..._


End file.
